


A different kind of game

by hevevols



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Mistakes Are Made, Oneshot, Slice of Life, maybe if you squint...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-30
Updated: 2014-12-30
Packaged: 2018-03-04 09:53:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3063431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hevevols/pseuds/hevevols
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was just a suggestion, Cluedo wasn't meant to go like this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A different kind of game

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry if anyone goes OOC and for any grammar or spelling mistakes.

"Sherlock, you need to stop watching crap TV" John honestly didn't think he could stand another episode of Jeremy Kyle.

"You're the one that suggested I watch daytime TV, John." Barely a thought spared towards John, Sherlock contented himself with the show's latest issue did Becky sleep with her sister, Jessica's boyfriend. Obviously the answer was yes, it would have been obvious; even to John. It was the tan, same as the boyfriends; her alibi was that she was at the tanning beds but anyone could spot the difference between the tans. It would have been cheap judging by her clothes, make-up... character; so it would have had a unnatural orange or brown tinge for her skin tone. Not only that but she had a tan-line; why would she have had worn clothes in a tanning bed? She was dumb, not devoid of intelligence. Her downfall was the decrease in her already non-existent modesty. But it was enjoyable to watch them fight.

"I know." John sighed "I made a mistake..."

"Make a lot of those, don't you."

John quickly repressed the urge to strangle Sherlock. God, him and his last words. He was ridiculous, bloody ridiculous.

"Why don't you try something else?" He needed to think of something simple; entreating without becoming aggravating. "How about a board game?"

"A board game?"

"Yes, like scrabble or monopoly, though it's a bit hard with two players. There's always Cluedo."

"Cluedo, John?" Oh great, his incredulous tone. John couldn't tell if he ad gained or lost Sherlock's interest; but he wasn't about to continue with this Jessica, Becky crap. "Yes, it's a murder mystery game..." John spoke slowly as if to child, of course John realised his mistake immediately. Sherlock's reply was almost guaranteed, he'd have to pin his hopes on the lack of (what Sherlock deemed) interesting cases and the potential interest to be caused by a game that stimulated brutal murder with interesting weapon and room choice.

"Don't talk to me like I'm a child, John. I'm not a child."

"Of course..." John tilted his head down quickly, his amusement he knew from previous experience, wouldn't help his case.

"Get it." It was spoken so quietly John almost didn't hear it.

"Pardon?"

"Get it!" Sherlock quickly muttered something intelligible before following through, throwing his hands up into the air. "What other excuse do you need? If you really want to play it so much!"

Stifling his "Uh-huh" John grabbed his coat; he may have convinced him but Sherlock was still Sherlock.

Coming back from the toy share, having earned a few strange looks, arrived back at the apartment to see Sherlock in the exact same position, crouched on his chair, except fidgeting. A lot.

"Have you got it?" What did Sherlock think Cluedo was? His quick fix? John could only sigh.

"Yes, I've got it." He was pretty sure these suppressed emotions would catch up with him; headaches maybe, a sudden heart attack, a stress induced coma. For now, John thought, I'll just focus on Cluedo. "You should probably read the instructions first..."

"I'll do what I want, John." Despite this Sherlock still chose to snatch the instructions before settling back into his chair; John sighed and continued setting up the board.

A few minutes later, they were into the game; John was positive that Sherlock had read about three lines and skipped the rest of the rules. He rolled a six. Moving Colonel Mustard into the library, John began his accusation.

"Right. Mrs White, in the library, with the rope." He looked up at Sherlock expectantly. "Sherlock?" Still no reply. "Sherlock, You're meant to show me one of your cards if you have them..."

"I showed you one last round." Sherlock replied indignantly

"...and you have to show another this round, wait Sherlock... didn't you read the instructions?"

"I started but you had already finished setting up." John should have known; oh wait, he did already know. His room mate for all his intelligence, had the mental age of a child.

"We have to show a card each round unless we have none of them." John didn't have children but he guessed it was something like this. Good thing he had already mastered the 'parental concern' and the condescending 'slow talk' tones.

"Fine." With an exaggerate flair Sherlock drew and flashed the 'library card' at John "Really? the library? Haven't you been paying attention to anything we've been doing." He scoffed "Really?"

"Sherlock, this is a game; it doesn't work like real life..."

"Then it's not a very good game." Despite his statement, Sherlock snatched the dice and rolled. A two. Sherlock moved Professor Plum into the Kitchen.

"Miss Scarlet, Poison, Kitchen."

"We've already had poison Sherlock, we've gone over this..."

"There's no sign of a struggle in any of the rooms, no blood; it would have been dark, easy to slip the p..."

"No" John pointed an accusing finger at Sherlock "This is a game. It doesn't work that way."

"Fine! Fine." Sherlock locked his hands together in front of his face; critically analysing the scene in front of him. John just sat back and pre-occupied himself with regret for his decision.

"Are you su..."

"Yes! Yes, I'm sure." Sherlock resumed his position, hopefully he wouldn't' start looking at the board at different angles. Maybe Jeremy Kyle wouldn't have been so bad... "Remember, you can't change your statement." Watson showed Sherlock the poison card, again.

"You can't do that, you've already showed me that card" He sounded affronted, he really had he even read the instruction, at all?

"Its in the rules Sherlock, if you would just..."

"Your go." He was interrupted later than he thought.

John sighed and made his move. It was a few minutes of interrupted game-time before Sherlock did the thing. His 'I've solved the case, I'm so much better than you' smile. John was normally ok with it, but all of Sherlock's statements seemed completely unrelated. Half of them included poison, he always seemed frustrated when John showed him the same card. On his next roll, Sherlock took his little purple, or rather plum, counter and moved in into the pool. Yeah, he was planning on making one of his genius deductions again. How many times would he have to remind him that games don't work like real life.

"Ok then, Sherlock?"

"The host, in the swimming pool, with the rope."

"Sherlock, no. It doesn't work like that."

"It's the only answer. No signs of trauma in the rest of the house, no blood, no trail. It's a suicide. Its obvious, the other guests..."

"NO! Stop. Just stop, Sherlock"

"Wait, you see.." Sherlock started to gesture to the board when John gave him the look. This was the most he'd used it in a long time, how could a game become so stressful.

"This isn't how you play Cluedo." John felt tired, how long had they even been playing? He had to think of an excuse to stop this game.

"How about we stop and have dinner?"

"What do you mean 'this isn't how you play'? It's the only solution." The incredulous tone was back, John wasn't getting out of this soon.

"It's in the instructions if you had read them." Yeah, instructions would keep him occupied for a while. "If you read the instructions, I'll make dinner; how about eggs?" Sherlock scoffed.

"I'm not reading the instructions."

"Your only chance of winning is to read them, Sherlock. If you don't read them, then you don't know how to win, so you can't." That one got Sherlock, if anything he didn't like loosing. It felt rather like dangling a bone in front of a dog. Grabbing the instructions, Sherlock settled back into his chair and started reading. John, sensing the opportunity to take a break, headed for the kitchen. Yeah, eggs didn't sound so bad. Half-way through the first egg he heard Sherlock shout.

"DONE!"

"Sherlock, I'm already making dinner..."

"Dinner can wait. The game is... We have a game to finish." John looked over, Sherlock was impatiently fidgeting in his chair. It wouldn't hurt him to wait a little longer. Well, it probably would a little, John might end up caught in the repercussions of it. But his temporary satisfaction was priceless.

Finishing his egg, John joined Sherlock at the table; he looked positively livid.

"My move." Grabbing the dice, Sherlock rolled quickly leaving no room for argument.

This was going to be a long night but John was sure of one thing, he was never, _never_ , suggesting Cluedo again.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I might do more oneshots like this on everyday things, I don't know. Thanks for reading.


End file.
